


A Perplexing Predicament

by soupysoop



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crushes, M/M, Sexual Tension, i guess? romantic tension? idk!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 06:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupysoop/pseuds/soupysoop
Summary: Whizzer is...perplexed. Which he never is. He never finds himself feeling perplexed, because he isn’t normally finding himself in perplexing situations. Which made this situation even the more perplexing.Edit; fixed all the tense errors YIKES!!!





	A Perplexing Predicament

**Author's Note:**

> i cant stop thinking abt this art college au i made in self indulgence that i think only i care abt but here she is anywayyy!!!
> 
> set in like mid 70s80s New York City so u kno like that gritty art school vibe thinking Fame crica 1980?? whizzer=photography major, marvin=law school drop out illustration major who draws disgusting exploitative cartoons

Whizzer is... _perplexed_. Which he never is. He never finds himself feeling perplexed, because he isn’t normally finding himself in perplexing situations. Which made this situation even the more _perplexing_.

He’s in a sort of...emotional calamity? Whizzer Brown has found himself, dare he say it, dare he take the mere _notion_ of it seriously, with a crush. A _crush_.

It’s important to note that Whizzer considers commitment an illness of human nature, and on a Richter scale of fidelity, flighty and all synonyms pertaining to the word rank an 8-9. Whizzer just simply isn't the type to be faithful.

The rapid shutters of a camera and the brief moments of developing film. That’s what Whizzer is the type for. Make it quick, make it fun, make it worth it.

But, Whizzer is in a predicament. A perplexing predicament taking form of a Robert Crumb looking fucker in the 6 AM figure drawing class. And, again, it’s important to note that Whizzer doesn’t find himself in these types of ‘ _predicaments_ ’ normally. 

His last major crush was on a boy named Adam Jones in high school. Adam was straight but blew Whizzer in the trunk of his dad’s pickup during homecoming and called him ‘faggot’ for the rest of the year.

Yeah. So, no. Hell no. Whizzer doesn't find himself in these types of predicaments. Especially not predicaments with bags under their eyes and sneakers with the toe caps flapping open on both feet. He doesn't crush, _especially_ not on that.

6am figure drawing - Whizzer poses for Mr.Bingham and his class about twice a week. Butt fucking naked in front of a gaggle of social regrets, dead eyed with charcoal smeared on their cheeks. He needs grocery money and a gym membership, and what can he say, he’s proud of the physique he’s managed to maintain in the midst of take out food and starvation.

The _predicament_ , in person, isn't what some normal person would consider eye catching. The puffy under bags, the unshapely, stout but long body, plus a weak jaw line? Not normally stunning to the run of the mill 20 year old college student. But apparently Whizzer isn’t some normal 20 year old college student. Apparently, he’s into that.

Because when that _situation_ walked into room B204 and gave him 13 different lusty once overs with some the biggest, most intense eyes Whizzer ever cared to notice on a man, he knew something was up. Whether it was with his brain, heart or genitalia... he doesn't know. Probably all at once in that moment, he really rather not think to hard about it.

Whizzer isn’t unaware of his own emotions. He just...keeps them on a back burner. Plastering them firmly to the back of his skull, keeping them there to shallowly thrive until they rot away into obscurity. But he isn't _oblivious_ to them.

So, he knew, in that first encounter, that he was attracted to this man. And he avoided it - because Whizzer can. Because that’s what Whizzer does. Christ, he gets half chubs listening to E.G Marshal rasp over the damn radio, he never said his taste was perfect. Tis’ as fleeting as a song.

And he continued with that weak excuse. Until the next class came, and the next class. The next class and the class after that. That ‘ _situation_ ’, this ‘ _predicament_ ’ stared him down with lusty ferocity every session to the very last minute, eyes never so much as _straying_.

In Gemini fashion, Whizzer convinced himself it was creepy. What a creep! Such a stress! Whizzer was imagining it. Whizzer didn’t care.

...He _doesn't._

But Whizzer did start noticing things. The answer to the question 'why?' was because ‘he does’t care’.

He noticed things like how he wore the same two sweat shirts to class. One grey with a Garfield graphic printed on it, flaking off with age. It was small on him, riding up above his navel slightly. Kinda sexy in a cute way. The other one was maroon with a hood covered in grease stains. Kinda gross, in a sexy way. The ‘ _predicament_ ’ jostled his right leg up and down aggressively and wiped his hands up and down his khaki pants, staining them with charcoal. He scowled and sighed at nothing, and when the guy next to him looked over at his sketchbook during a break, and commented, “Jesus Christ Marv, what the _hell_?” the predicament shot a filthy look and said, “I’m not here to be _polite_ , Chris.”

The predicament has scars all over his arms, very obviously self inflicted. He has two thick ones on his wrists that when he wore the Garfield shirt, would show. He has thick eyebrows and patchy 5 o'clock shadow. His body language is exhausted yet haughty. His face is sullen but his eyes are on fire. God _damn_ , are they on fire.

The whole eyes-are-the-window-to-the-soul bullshit… very true for _Marv_. Its attractive to Whizzer, which is weird. Whizzer has never thought, on any other man before, that their eyes were sexy. Not for anyone else but Marv. Ugh.

Marv. Marvin. Marvin Something-Or-Another. Marvin…he only knew his name because of that rando Chris and the occasional roll call. Marvin...Marvin... fuck that guy. _Fuck_ that guy.

Whizzer is perplexed, because even if he manages to gather the courage to sit and dwell purposely on this unfounded infatuation it still makes no sense. This Marvin guy seems like a asshole, he seems like a complete basket case. Marvin seems like he goes to his dorm every night after class and stabs canvases while screaming, blasting The Stooges.

Whizzer see's him around the campuses, out around the dorms. Sometimes doing nothing other than sketching pedestrians, sometimes laughing with friends. He would see Marvin kissing a girl outside the Japanese market place on 5th one night, and then see them have a public screaming match the next. He’d see him chain smoke in neon booty shorts outside of the B dorm building. He'd would see Marvin a lot. He see's Marvin _a lot_. And Whizzer's not in enough denial to say something childish like he ‘wasn’t’ or 'isn't' seeking the guy out. He is. He definitely is seeking Marvin out. But...just admitting it feels disgusting. Ew Ew Ew. Get it off, why is he so gross about this?

They’ve never so much as said a single _hello_ to each other. All that's been exchanged has been heated stares and blown pupils. Which is...enough, because it's mutual. He knows for a fact it is. 

Whizzer isn’t a narcissist, no, but he isn't past admitting that hes not,  _not_ a handsome guy. What can he say? He has a fantastic ass. He’s thin, built and athletic. And with all the gnarly, sexy looks Marvin’s sexy fucking eyes have been giving him for the past three months? Whizzer is pretty positive the attraction is mutual. Right? Right. 

Perplexity. Soconfusing. None of what's been happening feels right. Whizzer isn’t ignorant to his emotional infliction's, like he's mentioned, he just keeps it on the down low. So he can admit to himself that the reason he’s feeling so _weird_ is because this crush is very foreign. It’s new. It doesn’t make sense, and Whizzer isn’t used to things not making sense.

He wants things to make sense to him. So, lately he’s made an effort to not seek Marvin out. He hadn’t seen him loitering around the street for about a week and Whizzer hadn’t modeled for about 4. It began to make sense, the distance made sense.

Silly attraction! Just wanted to suck him off! Just wanted a guy to finger me! Silly, dumb Whizzer Brown! Go take street photography and hang around faux intellectuals stupid bitch!

It’s 11:23 PM, and Whizzer’s strolling down the street to the In and Out. He has 15$ in his checking and his choices for dinner at this hour consist of either McDonald's, 7/11 or In and Out. So it's In and Out, get a burger, some fries. Get kinda bloated, a little dysmorphic and pass out in a unhealthy food coma. That’s the plan.

It had been a week since Whizzer had seen Marvin - last time he found Marv squatting on the curb puffing a camel cig singing to himself. Whizzer wanted to take a photo so badly. Damn it. Ugh.

1 cute week, 4 weeks without proper food to eat. 1 week to scratch to 0 and 4 weeks to curse under his breath. Because Marvin What-Ever-The-Hell is sitting there at an In and Out table surrounded by papers and 4 meat patties glued together with mayonnaise.

Huh. _Huh_.

Ok, destiny. This is destiny.

Ok. Ok, not really. It’s sudden adrenaline and dopamine flooding his brain with complete idiocy. Whizzer isn't thinking. It's like a drug addiction, or at least what he thinks a drug addiction must be like. 'I'm good, I don't smoke anymore' says Aunt Helen, moments before puffing a cigarette to dust because one just magically materialized in front of her. It's like that. Shame and awareness be damned.

Marvin doesn’t notice Whizzer awkwardly ordering a cheeseburger with extra lettuce, staring at him. The cashier girl does, but Marvin doesn’t. Marvin is vigorously sketching on paper with his brows knit together handsomely.

Whizzer feels his chest empty and fill with cool bravery strolling up to the table. He feels his head buzz with fear and his face burn tightly when Marvin slowly looks up from his artwork, bothered and intense and then very suddenly, staunch. 

“Whizzer.”

He responds on complete instinct.

“Marvin.”

Wait. Wait. What the hell? What the fuck?

“Figure class?”

“Yeah.”

“You haven’t modeled for a while now.”

“Been under the weather, catching up with assignments.” The words are tumbling from his mouth with such dissociated confidence Whizzer’s thoughts can’t even keep up with them. What kind of astral plane nonsense is going on? Barux hashem? Maybe? What the fuck?

“What’s your major?”

“Photography.”

“Illustration.” Marvin’s slouched posture relaxes, but his face remains stern. Interesting.

“Are you cramming?” Whizzer gestures to the mess of paper without breaking eye contact. Damn, those eyes are gorgeous.

“Yeah.” He smiles. It isn't inviting, it isn't friendly. Flirty. “So, why haven’t you been modeling?”

Whizzer looks down at the sketches. They're crude, but have a very practiced style. A anamorphic cat hooker with exposed breasts getting fondled by what looks like a vague character of a man- frowning in exaggeration with the next panels depicting graphic gay sex. Bingo. Bing-fucking-go.

“Under the weather, catching up on assignments.” Whizzer’s thoughts have caught up with the words so suggestively rolling off his teeth. Face flushing, eyes focused. At the end of the day destiny really is just serotonin.

“Huh, it’s a, uh, a shame.” Nervousness cracks across Marvin’s face, his eyes darting down to his hand now fiddling with his pencil. Shifting in his seat he bashfully but somehow aggressively, _somehow a_ ssertively, looks back up to make eye contact. Implication. Fiery, inexperienced, purposeful implication. Marvin is on the same track as Whizzer. Saw the target, fumbled with the cupid arrow. Complete impulse. Whizzer thinks that's sexy.

He looks down at the cartoon again and remembers Marvin spitting the phrase, ‘I’m not here to be _polite_ ’. Yeah. Fuck yeah.

Whizzer smiles with complete purpose, sliding into the seat across from Marv. Marvin smiles back, face flushing deeply yet eyes burning so intensely _._

“It really is, isn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> i drew 4 this....not 4 the actual fic but just the general idea i have hehehehehejrkdfshowief
> 
> https://uhhhummuhh.tumblr.com/post/164942114559/i-deleted-the-first-post-cuz-i-got-self-conscience
> 
> https://uhhhummuhh.tumblr.com/post/165097096334/more-art-school-au-whizzer-looking-babyish-is


End file.
